Entry # 16: When did the message
become "enter at your own risk?"


While my heart remains in Middle School, my thoughts often turn to High School. After all, high school is that place where we middle school folks send our kids when they leave us. Unfortunately, it sometimes feels like we're walking them off the end of a very short plank.

Some of our students are afraid to leave, and we are often reluctant to let them go. We nurture them, struggle with them, laugh with them, and sometimes, we cry over them, only to lose track of many of them as they enter the world of high school.

Why are we so worried about the next school? I'm not saying that our middle schools have it all together. Nor am I saying that all high schools are cold, unfeeling places. But I have experienced the fear, the vulnerability, of not knowing what it's really like for our kids in grades 9 through 12. Where do these anxieties come from anyway?

Pride and stigma

On Thursday, I was rushing to the New Teacher Induction program. I was scheduled to help with the logistics of the session at a local high school. On my way to the meeting, I drove past the high school that many of my formers students attend.

Sure enough, there they were, literally pouring out of the building. I pulled over for a quick hug from a ninth-grade girl and a fast talk with a handful of boys. The boys were all anxious to tell me that they were fine, but wouldn't be staying at "this school" for long. A few of their friends, kids I'd never met, were joking that they attended other schools and were only here for a visit.

The kids had to get home and I was due at my meeting, so I couldn't pursue the conversations, but I was saddened by their desire to disassociate themselves from their school.

As I drove away I wondered what had happened to school pride... I was sorry to see that there was a stigma attached to attending this school, a stigma that hasn't gone away despite all the efforts to improve the school. ( The school, Olney, was labeled in distress and you might remember the news of attempts to remove/reconstitute 75% of the staff and the student protests a few years back. The union successfully blocked the forced staff changes, but there was lots of upheaval anyway.)

As I entered the school that was hosting the Induction Program, I was struck by the contrast. The host school was an academic magnet and it was still filled with students. Classes were clearly over, but student activities were just getting started. The halls were noisy, filled with conversation, laughter and girls making plans. This was the kind of high school I remembered, a place where you wanted to be, even if you thought your classes were boring.

Some thoughts about Boston Public

Back to the new teachers: Am I just getting old, or are they really so young? I wished I had the time to really talk to these new colleagues. I wanted to know how it was going, what their questions were and what supports they needed. As it was, I was just saying hi and giving out materials.

One of my daughter's friends is a first-year teacher and she did stop by for a brief conversation. She told me she loved her kids, but that it was hard. She wished that she looked older. She wished her students took their work more seriously, but she was happy.

Since she teaches at the first school I mentioned, the one many of my former kids attend, I was really pleased. It felt good to know that someone at the high school was loving them. It wasn't that I assumed no one cared, it's just that I don't really know the teachers there... even though I sent my kids there for eight years. As usual, ignorance and isolation are fertile ground for misunderstanding and mistrust.

While the news about all of our schools is rarely good, the coverage about our high schools is usually really negative. Add to the actual reporting the images promoted by recent films and TV, and you get an altogther unpleasant view of a day in the life of a public high school.

In this Sunday's NY Times, there's a thoughtful review by Samuel G.Freedman of the disturbingly popular new show, Boston Public. I was interested in the review because I hated the first show, and because I had read and respected Freedman's book, Small Victories.

Freedman wonders how a "show that gets some things so right, can get others so wrong". I wonder too. Is the desire for ratings success overshadowing the thought of doing a realistic show? Is the public only interested in the sensational and unsavory aspects of what can sometimes happen in a school?

Who decided that the average real-life school day isn't dramatic enough? Why aren't teachers, who are really struggling to do a good job interesting enough to watch? Instead of having a principal slamming a bully up against lockers, how about a group of teachers and kids, who are trying to grapple with peer mediation and self governance?

Instead of teachers involved in illicit relationships with students, how about African American males trying to act as role models for our young minority men, or groups that try to support the development of females as more than just Barbie dolls?

Would anybody watch a group of teachers "looking at student work"? How many people would tune in, if the topic was multicultural respect and the tough questions that divide us were being addressed?

There seems to be a lot of interest in "Real TV" these days. We've got real operations, real emergency rooms, and real cop chases...why not real school? Maybe the process is just too slow. It would be hard to show real progress in a half hour or hour show, with time out for commercial breaks.

How can we support a smooth transition for our kids?

I don't think the media is interested. I think we'll have to go it alone. So here I am back to the division between high school and middle school. What can we do to encourage cross-school articulation? How can we break down the barriers and support a smooth transition for our kids?

At one of our city high schools, they have Saturday programs to get 7th and 8th graders into the high school building regularly, for classes and for fun. They're trying to get them used to the site. They're offering a small taste of ownership before the kids are actually actually enrolled there.

At another school they had a fabulous ninth grade orientation this year! They gave out graduation tickets and invited students and parents to a day of workshops about "effective teens." They abandoned the standard tour and the "laying down the laws" approach. They had a popular deejay and they celebrated the arrival of these newcomers. They're offering ongoing supports throughout the year, too.

Their message was clearly one that said, "You are important to us, and we want you to succeed." Isn't that the message we all should be communicating? When did the message become one of "enter at your own risk" ?

On Friday, I was at a meeting where we were discussing the Urban Learner Framework. We compared a church bulletin to the schedules of our schools. The differences were glaring. The church schedule offered lots of ways to participate at all different times of the day. It gave the impression that all members' needs were being met. Our school calendars and schedules communicate a different set of priorities.

Tomorrow, I'm addressing the cabinet meeting at our Cluster high school. I've been asked to set up a planning team for our Jan. professional development day. It's a beginning. I know I want to share all that I've been thinking and worrying about in this entry. However, I know that my role is to facilitate their process of answering their questions, not mine.

Writing this has helped -- it's given some order to my thoughts. I know that teachers need to hear the same message that students need to hear, the "You are important and we want you to succeed" message. I hope I can begin to communicate that philosophy tomorrow, and that it will filter into our planning and practice throughout the year.


[Editor's note: Deb is co-moderator of the new MiddleWeb listserve.]


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